It seemed so simple in my head. An afternoon at the local bowling alley. Not being familiar with bowling beyond the occasional bad date as a teenager, I had no idea that Saturdays are the big bowling leagues day. I also had no idea that just randomly showing up at a bowling alley on Saturday without a lane reserved, is a fool-hardy thing to do.
After wrangling my parents from the nursing home and convincing Jennifer, Elise, Grandbaby Eleanor and Elise's boyfriend Pat to come along for the fun! fun! fun! no way were Rob and I going to cancel our afternoon of family togetherness just because we had to crawl over the laps of the people in the neighboring lane to get to our seats. We are friendly people, not opposed to sharing space for limited amounts of time. It's fine, really. It didn't matter we couldn't hear each other over the thumping music, balls smashing and people talking. This is bowling in America and bowling is fun, dang nabbit.
As everyone began taking their turns bowling, it became painfully obvious we aren't very good at this game. We had put up the child bumpers for the benefit of Grandbaby Eleanor and left them up because the rest of us needed them if we ever hoped to throw anything other than gutter balls. What really turned the afternoon from a chaotic adventure in humanity, into an endurance race of our good humor, was this innocent looking contraption:
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| A bowling ramp |
Grandbaby Eleanor uses a bowling ramp all the time when she goes bowling with her young adult friends from The Village (a program for children with special needs.) You set the ball at the top of the ramp and push it off, thereby easing the hardship of swinging the heavy ball. It is genius in my opinion. Eleanor used it when it was her turn with no problem. She needed Pat to help her carry the heavy ball and her aunt Jennifer to help block out the other bowlers, but she did just fine. Autism makes crowds and noise super hard, so it was a major thing for Eleanor to handle it so well. Rob and I did silent high fives ourselves. We expected if there was going to be trouble, it would be for Eleanor. Not so, she was a champ.
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| Pat, Eleanor, Jennifer and the bowling ramp |
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| High fives and congratulations all around |
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| Grandbaby Eleanor, her mom Elise and Pat |
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| Aren't they cute? |
After Jennifer, Eleanor, Elise, and Pat bowled, it was Rob's and then my turn. Rob and I used the bowling ramp because Rob couldn't find a ball that fit his large fingers and I didn't care to throw my back out swinging a ball for 10 frames. Being close to 50 years old and not in world class shape, makes me think, "Is this worth a trip to the ER, pain killers and meeting my insurance deductible?" I am telling you, bowling ramps are one sweet item. I actually got two strikes off the thing and I don't know jack about bowling.
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| Rob doing his bowling swagger |
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| Jennifer showing how it is done. |
My parents finished out the bowling line up. What Rob and I didn't predict, is how offensive Ralph and Claudia would find the bowling ramp. Where Rob and I were fine with using it, my folks had major issues with it. They knew how to bowl and did not need any help from a silly bowling ramp, thank-you-very-much. The thing about it is that Ralph is in his early 80's, Claudia is in her 70's and I did not want to see either of them hurt themselves throwing balls. So as they voiced their resistance, I pulled my Daughter-Knows-Best card and told them that bowling without the ramp was not an option. Ramp or nothing, so get over it. I thought that would be the end of it. It should have been, right?
No.
It was not the end.
I had every right to set the rules of safety, but my parents didn't have to like it. I quickly realized I was in over my head with them after the first frame of bowling. Claudia, then Ralph argued they didn't need the bowling ramp, I replied they did. They each threw two balls using the dreadful ramp, every time making the same complaint and argument. The math of it looks like this:
Claudia - 2 balls thrown + 2 complaints = 4 complaints per frame.
Ralph - 2 balls thrown + 2 complaints = 4 complaints per frame.
10 frames x 4 complaints per frame = 40 complaints per person.
Ralph 40 complaints + Claudia 40 complaints = 80 complaints in 2 1/2 hours of bowling fun.
The thing that I am constantly reminded of by my folks, is that once they get an idea in their head, there is no moving them off of it. They may go along with another approach, but that doesn't mean they agree. It just means they realize they can't win that battle. In the end, they WILL win the war. I didn't know what the big deal was, Claudia was beating all of us. How could the winner complain that the game rigged? If it was rigged, it was to her favor.
The good news is Grandbaby Eleanor had a stellar time at the bowling alley and we all left in one exhausted bunch. On the way home, I told Ralph and Claudia that we wouldn't go bowling again because I had no intention of listening to that level of whining ever again. If you don't know my parents, you might think I was harsh with them. If you do know my parents, you know the best way to communicate with them is 100% straight forward, with no fluffing the edges. The funniest part of our conversation was my parents response to my declaration of "Never Again!" They totally agreed with me. As Claudia put it so well, "Miniature golf is so much better anyway."
Amen, Momma.
A-men.
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| My mother, Claudia getting the job done |
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| My father Ralph, and mother, Claudia waiting their turns to bowl. |
